


Taking it Slow

by smuttyfox (Thalius)



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Play, Explicit Consent, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 20:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15202655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalius/pseuds/smuttyfox
Summary: Veronica's discovered somethingveryinteresting about her husband.





	Taking it Slow

**Author's Note:**

> Mild spoilers for the end of Halo: Bad Blood, and that's about it for plot on this thing.

He was nervous. Maybe. He wasn’t sure. It might’ve been the butterflies that hadn’t left his stomach since they’d officially gotten married. This certainly wasn’t helping, though.

Buck emerged from the large bathroom of their honeymoon suite—as it were, anyway. It was actually just a private room on S-Deck, but Roland had strung up fancy lights and put holos on the wall to make it look like a grand resort suite overlooking the beach. He couldn’t smell the sea and the angle of the sun was wrong, but it was still more than either of them could ask for given their current circumstances.

The mist from a long, thorough shower followed him as he stepped into their room. Veronica was sitting cross legged on their bed in sweats and a spaghetti strap shirt watching the holoscreen on the wall and looking far too good in pajamas than she had any right to. She grinned at him when she saw the door open and clicked off the TV.

“All washed up?” 

“Full forensic clean,” he answered her. Her grin turned knowing and he felt his face heat. 

Veronica stood up and laughed, reaching out to him. The polished oak wedding ring on her finger gleamed in the artificial sunlight coming in from the holographic balcony door, and his heart seized up in his chest at the sight of it. He never wanted to get used to seeing that ring. “Come here,” she said, beckoning him with a hand. “My blushing bride.”

He grabbed the towel from around his hips and slung it over his head like a veil. She laughed and wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing her cheek against his still-damp chest. He melted into her and felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders. Maybe he  _ was _ nervous. “You still game for dirty married sex?” she asked him, her breath tickling his skin.

“I thought it was supposed to be less dirty after marriage.”

“In theory,” she said. “But I have your undivided attention for a whole week, so we’re going to ramp up the filth.”

“I just took a thirty-seven minute shower for you, so I’m well aware.”

She laughed again and pulled away to look up at him. Her face went all tender on him, and it took everything he had not to interrupt her with a kiss. “You’re sure? Really?”

He laughed and pulled her back into his arms. “This is the opposite of dangerous. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“You can be nervous about things that aren’t dangerous. You were shaking when I asked you to marry me. Wait—” She pulled back, anticipating his rebuttal. “Do not say anything.”

“I never said marrying you was dangerous. You thought it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come with me.” She pulled away and tugged on his hand, leading them over to the bed. She turned them around so that the back of his thighs were hitting the edge of the mattress, and then she pushed him down onto it. Or rather, he  _ let _ her push him down. She might be strong, but the UNSC hadn’t spent millions of credits to rework his skeleton just so he could be shoved around by someone who barely reached his collarbone. Still, it was fun to let her be a little rough. 

Buck fell back dramatically onto the bed, the towel still on his head slipping off and fanning out on the blankets. Veronica surveyed the scene before her and looked like she was struggling not to burst out laughing. “Excellent,” she said, crawling onto the mattress over him. She pressed a kiss to his mouth and he immediately sat up to respond. Veronica pressed a hand to his chest in warning, and he let his elbow loosen back up. He raised a brow at her in challenge.

“Stay down,” she told him, sitting back on his stomach with her legs folded on either side of his waist. “Relax.”

He was going to tell her how little more he could possibly relax when she leaned down to kiss him again. He didn’t press up into her this time, but he did hazard a hand into her hair, which she allowed with a pleased rumble that sounded almost like a purr. Veronica spent the next several minutes just kissing him, her hands drifting lightly over his skin. Her tongue teased his but never dipped into his mouth, and her hands never settled on any one part of him. It was quickly making him impatient. She hadn’t even taken her shirt off, and he was lying there, fully naked under her. That hardly seemed fair.

“Aren’t you—” he began over her lips, and she pulled back to look at him. “Aren’t you gonna, you know—uh, start?”

“You mean put a finger in your ass?” she asked, and his face went flush again. Probably her intention, but he couldn’t help himself. Veronica grinned in triumph, damn her. “God, you are  _ so _ bashful. A true marvel for an ODST.”

“I’m not!” he insisted. He made the mistake of trying to sit up again, but her hand pressed him back down onto the bed. She was taking this whole thing very seriously. It was turning him on a lot more than it should. “There’s just no sexier way to talk about it. It’s a little jarring.”

“I’ve heard you say some filthy things to me,” she said. The hand that had been holding him down now swirled across his chest, her fingertips drawing soft, featherlight lines over his skin. She circled a nipple and he shivered.

“Yeah,” he conceded. “I dunno. I still feel like this is different.”

She arched a brow. “Can’t believe I get to pop one of your cherries in our wedding bed. This is so old-school.”

“So you’ve done this before.”

“I’m surprised you  _ haven’t,”  _ she replied. Her fingers dipped lower, tracing over his ribs and abdomen. The hyper-sensitive spot on his right side contracted at the touch, making her smile.

“ODSTs don’t have time to take hour-long showers scrubbing themselves down to prepare for this kind of thing,” he argued. “While you squids are all up in your ships fingering each other we’re down on the ground doing real work.”

A surprised snort came out of her, followed by laughter, and she bowed her head to his chest, her forehead resting on his skin. He laughed with her, the nervous energy still pent up inside his chest slowly releasing its hold on him. Yeah, he was definitely nervous.

Veronica kissed a pectoral and looked up at him, her mouth still twitching. “I think,” she said, laughing again. “That many of your fellow colleagues would disagree. I’ve heard plenty of ODSTs brag about their conquests, Romeo included.”

He scrunched his face up in disgust. “Ugh. Don’t ruin the mood. I don’t want to think about him doing this. Or anything, actually. At all. Ever.”

“Then stop  _ talking,” _ she whispered, punctuating her order by finally,  _ finally  _ taking off her shirt. She hadn’t been wearing a bra, so her breasts bounced freely in the warmth of the room. He groaned and began sliding his hands up her waist when she grabbed his wrists and pressed them down into the bed. He resisted her, but when she pushed down harder he relented. Buck let out another groan, this one all frustration.

_ “Veronica—” _

“I’m running the show,” she said. “We are taking this thing slow.”

“So I can’t even touch you?”

“Not yet.” 

“This isn’t foreplay if I’m not even turned on by it.”

Veronica didn’t break eye contact with him. She reached behind her back and grabbed at his cock, squeezing it firmly, drawing a surprised gasp out of him. “You are a terrible liar,” she said. “Especially when you’re naked.”

“Which you are not yet,” he reminded her, looking at her sweatpants.

“Patience.”

She kissed him again before he could protest.  _ Properly _ this time, rolling her body into his and pressing her tongue into his mouth. She allowed his hand into her hair again—but only until he began rubbing the pad of his thumb against the sensitive spot at the base of her skull. She shivered and pushed his hand back down onto the bed. “No distractions,” she murmured against his mouth. His only reply was a whimper.

Despite not being able to touch her, or maybe because of it, his heart was throbbing in his chest and his whole body was aching by the time she was done just kissing him. His hands had balled up with the sheets by his sides to stop himself from touching her. It’d been a long time since they’d gone so slow, and he was ill-prepared for it. Which was probably why she was enjoying it so much. Not that he minded. 

Veronica unhooked her legs from his waist and knelt beside him on the bed. He was breathing like he’d run a marathon, but he was too turned on to hide that from her. She gave him an appraising once-over and grinned to herself, apparently satisfied. One of her hands reached out to grab him again, now throbbing achingly, and he couldn’t help arching up into her grip.

“Veronica,” he murmured, almost a plea.

“Looks like we’re ready for the scandalous stuff,” she said with a grin. She leaned down to kiss him once more, long and hard and full of promise. When she finally pulled away and slipped off the bed, he slung an arm over his eyes and blew out a long, shuddering breath, wondering idly if he’d survive this. His cock pulsed angrily at him, and he wanted desperately to touch himself, but he still had enough presence of mind to keep his hands where they were. She couldn’t very well stop him if he really wanted to, but her giving him orders was so, so much better. So he suffered the burning heat shivering up and down his entire body and just hoped she wouldn’t tease him for too much longer.

He felt her at the foot of the bed. Her hands smoothed over his thighs, her touch still light. When she reached under them she parted his legs, pulling them apart in much the same way as he would do when he was teasing her. He shuddered again, his heart pounding in his ears.

She let him lie there for a minute, her fingers circling around a smooth part of his inner thigh. “Your armour’s worn off all the hair here,” she said to him casually, like she was discussing the weather.

“As you’ve said many times before.” His voice came out high and strained.

“It’s soft,” she continued, ignoring him. He felt her mouth on the patch of skin and jumped at the sudden contact—and the thought of her face so close to his groin. He groaned again, pleading this time.

“Veronica,” he rasped. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Oh, not yet,” she said. “We still have a lot to get through.”

“Then get on with it.”

Her only response was a laugh. She touched him some more, her hands running up and down his legs and coming just shy of his cock with each pass. It made him restless with need, his legs jumping with every touch. He could tell she was enjoying the hell out of it, but he was starting to reach his limit on what he could bear.

She seemed to sense that, and after a moment he felt her leave the edge of the bed. She came back and he heard the click of a bottle cap. Lubricant. Oh, God.

“Ed,” she said, her voice low. 

“Yeah.”

“Look at me.”

He lifted the arm from his face and stared at her from between his legs. Her face was gentle again, almost concerned. “Still good?” she asked.

If his brain wasn’t half-melted with arousal he might’ve told her that he loved her for checking in on him. As it was, all he could manage was a shaky nod before he settled back down on the mattress. She chuckled, and then he felt her hand slide between his legs. 

Her fingers tracked from the base of his balls and then down, leaving a faintly wet trail behind. She must have been keeping the lube warm somewhere, or maybe it was because of how warm the room was, but it didn’t feel clinically cold against his skin like he thought it would. All it did was turn him on more, though he didn’t know how that was possible.

She pressed firmly on the skin of his perineum and he felt his whole body string up tightly, surprised at how good it felt. 

“Good?” she asked.

“Yeah, yea— _ ah.” _ Another press, this time more insistent. She’d definitely done this before.

She gave it a few more firm presses, each time making him flinch in pleasure. Then her fingers trailed down between his ass, circling around him. It coaxed another shudder out of him. God, she’d barely touched him, and it already felt like he was ready to burst. It wasn’t fair.

Then her index finger pressed into him, ever so gently. His breath came out in a heavy sigh, his brain slow to catch up with the new sensation. It was foreign but not unpleasant, and then it retreated, only for her finger to press in again, further this time. 

She kissed his thighs, making him pull his head up to look at her. She was grinning, her hair falling around her face in soft waves, tickling his skin. “Still good?” 

He smiled back and sat up on an elbow, his eyes drawn to the hand between his legs. Even through the haze of arousal, curiosity was getting the better of him. He could feel her lightly pressing, touching her finger tip along the wall, testing for sensation. “Yeah,” he said, and felt her press in further. “It’s weird, but not bad. Different. Sort of like _ —fuck!” _

Stars winked in front of his eyes and it felt like his ears had popped. She’d pressed against  _ something.  _ It had been fleeting, light, just a feathered press of the pad of her finger and then it was gone, but it had sent lightning down his spine and made his whole belly contract with the intensity of it.

Veronica grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “That was much easier to find than I thought it would be.”

“Do it again,” he whispered, eyes fixated on her hand. Her index finger curled up again, the press of her finger more firm this time. It made his whole body shiver, and then she did a third and fourth time and he fell back on the bed, feeling himself come apart at the seams. 

“Oh, Jesus, Veronica,” he muttered, and cried out as she pressed again. White heat threatened to fade his vision out. He’d never felt anything like it, but it wasn’t nearly enough, her touches too light and too quick to do more than make his whole body throb with want for more. She pressed up and he moaned into the pillow next to him and shuddered hard enough to shake the bed. His head was empty of everything but the sensation of her finger. She would stroke and then retreat, her rhythm random and uneven and maddeningly light. He wasn’t far gone enough to beg, but it was a close thing.

Then her finger fully retreated, leaving nothing but an empty ache. He tried to sit up, but his muscles were wobbly mush, so he pulled his head up instead to ask her, god,  _ why _ . He wouldn’t be able to bear that kind of teasing. It was too intense, and it was hanging him just close enough over the edge that it made his whole body hurt with how badly he needed more. 

She gave him a wicked look and then pressed in again, this time with two fingers. She tested the give of his body like she had before, going slow. He wanted to tell her to not bother, to get back inside of him so he could feel whatever the hell she’d been doing again, but the pressure of even just  two fingers was a lot more than he was used to and she knew that. So he bit his lip and let her carry on while he tried not to shake from the anticipation of it all. 

When she finally got two fingers in, she let them rest, not moving. Her free hand reached over to grab one of his, still fisted in the bedsheets. “Keep your hands there,” she instructed him. He nodded immediately, not even attempting to argue with her. He rolled his hips down into her hand instead, a request for her to move again, and when she pressed upwards with both fingers, he cried out and arched off the bed.

Then she became merciless, stroking her fingers quickly, firmly against him. His whole body was useless, unable to move except when she did, rocking and shaking into her hand as he begged her not to stop, to  _ never  _ stop, God, please—

Because despite how good it felt, he wasn’t coming. He was so hard it was painful, his balls throbbing for relief he wasn’t getting. He remembered the order she’d given him and decided he didn’t care. One of his hand reached up towards his cock and was immediately seized by Veronica’s free hand, her fingers a vice around his wrist. 

“Keep still,” she said, using her Captain-giving-orders-voice, and it was so hot, but God it wasn’t  _ enough— _

“Please,” he sobbed, well past the point of dignity. “Please, Veronica, I need—I need to—oh, God—”

Her fingers kept at it and he was going to explode. She held onto his hand, resting on his stomach now. So close, everything was so close, just barely not enough, and now he wasn’t even coherent enough to beg for her to touch him. 

He was seconds away from pushing her her hand away so he could finish himself off when she released her grip on his wrist and grabbed a hold of his cock, the rhythm of her strokes matching the other hand between his legs. He cried out and arched up, his hips rolling up into the stroke of her hand and then down into the press of her fingers. It was too good, too much now, and his vision was whiting out as the sensation of her hands consumed him, threw him over the edge with enough force to knock the wind out of him. When he came he sobbed out in relief at the white-hot release that was so achingly long overdue. Veronica didn’t let up, her fingers and hand still moving in an excruciating rhythm, and he was positive he blacked out for a moment.

He didn’t register much of anything for what felt like hours after that, but it was probably only minutes. The white ceiling above him faded in and out as he tried and failed to catch his breath. Lead weights pressed him into the mattress and made even the smallest movement impossible, and he didn’t have the energy to test that anyhow. Every single muscle in his body turned to liquid as he laid there, melting him into the material of the mattress and dissolving his reinforced bones. There was no surgery or test that could guard against  _ that. _

At some point he heard tap water running and realised that Veronica had left the room, despite never remembering her getting up and leaving. He kept heavy-lidded eyes on the bathroom door and watched her come out a minute later. She’d put her shirt back on too, and swiped her hair up into a ponytail. Maybe he actually had passed out.

A smile played on her lips, tentative and gentle. She wiped her hands on a towel and he saw the gleam of her ring again before she tossed the towel onto a chair and crawled up onto the mattress beside him. 

She settled her head on a pillow and kissed him so softly he barely felt it, then pulled away to look at him, as if inspecting him for damage. “How’s it going?” she asked simply, like she’d  _ not _ just absolutely destroyed him in the most beautiful way possible.

She wanted him to respond with words. He wasn’t sure how he could accomplish that. He wet his lips and blew out a breath, trying his level best anyway. “Good,” he managed. Understatement of the century. It would do for now, though.

She bit her lip to keep from laughing and pressed her face into his neck. He realised he was still lying on the damp towel he’d used for his shower, but that was very low on his priority list of things to deal with right now. 

“Poor Buck,” she crooned, slinging an arm across his chest. “I broke you.”

“You did something,” he muttered, making her laugh again.

“And  _ you _ made a mess,” she replied, giving a pointed look to his stomach. He could feel his release all over his belly, and God, he’d came a  _ lot _ . A busy work schedule followed by Veronica inflicting upon him one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever had in his entire forty-eight years of life really did a number him, apparently. Who knew?

He shrugged at her, not having the energy to wave a hand. “I’ll deal with it in a minute. Just have to… piece my brain back together.”

“I’ll grab you a towel.” She kissed his cheek and left the bed again, quick and nimble and everything opposite to how he felt. And what he felt was that he could sleep for ten years.

She returned with a damp cloth, and by then he’d mustered the strength to sit up on an elbow. She sat down on the bed again and reached for his abdomen with the towel, but he grabbed her hand and shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’ve done enough. A lot more than enough, actually.” Then something registered in his head, and he instantly felt guilty for not thinking of it sooner. “What about you?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not in any state to do anything besides lie here. Don’t worry about it, Buck. Really,” she insisted when he frowned. “I wanted to do this for you, and I was pretty sure that this—” She gestured to him. “Was what the end result would be.” 

He grabbed the cloth from her and wiped at his skin idly. “I don’t have to move,” he said. “I could lie back and you could just sit on my face. I can hold my breath for a lot longer now—” 

By the end of his sentence she was laughing again, and he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. He finished cleaning himself up and Veronica shook her head, her eyes crinkled with laughter. “There, see? Not so bashful anymore. And I’m well aware of what you can do,” she said, her lips twitching. “But right now I just want to sit here with you and finish that awful movie we were watching.”

“The karate one?” She took the cloth from him once he’d finished and tossed it in a nearby hamper, then slipped into bed beside him. He threw the damp towel under him away too, then pulled her under the covers and tucked her into his side. 

“I didn’t watch any while you were in the shower,” she promised him, turning the TV back on again. He grabbed her hand before she pressed play to get her attention. She looked over her shoulder at him and he kissed her, long enough that she rolled over to face him for a better angle. She cupped his face in her hands and was smiling when he finally pulled away.

“Saying thank you sounds cheesy,” he began.

“Because it is.”

“Fair. But I don’t know what else to say.”

“I love you?”

“Ah, you already know that.”

She snuggled deeper into the blankets and sighed happily. “I guess I do,” she said, pulling his hand up so she could look at his ring. They wore a matching set, though his was much larger. “I’ll take a rain check on that face-sitting offer, by the way.”

He laughed. “Good. I need to figure out how the hell I’m going to make this up to you, so that’s a start.”

“I plan on repeating this, so you better start thinking.”

“Oh, god,” he groaned into her hair. “I might actually die here.”

“Good way to go.”

Veronica kissed him some more and then rolled back over to face the TV, hitting play on the horrible, ancient, poorly-dubbed karate film they’d been watching  _ before _ she’d turned to him in bed a few hours earlier and whispered an offer to him that had changed his life and shattered the fabric of his reality. It had been so very worthy it, though.


End file.
